New York State Summer Youth Writers Institute Silver Bay Association, July 18-24, 1999 SPEED, PURE The truth, if you can handle it, is that I’m the fastest. I am the fastest. I could run by you and you wouldn’t even notice. I could turn the world the other way. I could pant you in a flash, I could beat you in the 10 minute mile even after your 9 head start minutes I could even get a gold medal. But I’m really not so arrogant that I need a piece of gold to prove That I’m the fastest. -- last lie --Steve Kokkinos VIBRANT I am the vibrant one. I am so vibrant that I reflect the sun. It sparkles off my teeth And drips down my shoulders. I am so vibrant that the rainbows I release Touch everyone. Some swell in my hot reds and happy yellows, While others, angered, wallow in my blues. I live in recognition, Basked in golden gazes, Swallowed by remembrance, But driven only by me. I am the vibrant one. --Marina Severinovsky I am the fiercest, the strongest one. My breath is the hurricane, my voice the avalanche Crashing down the mountain. My mind is the Busiest forest, my body the Earth. Fear my temper, the volcano's fire. The bed where I sleep is a patch of nettles, my name a flower growing in a rock. I am the fiercest one, my mouth is an endless crevice, my eyes the angry sun, burning you with my gaze. I live in the wind, my teeth biting your ankles. I am the Destroyer, the Protector. I am me. -Heather Carl son Loveliest of what I leave behind are warm smiles. And loveliest after that is liquid silk and the Smell of roses. But also pecan pie smothered in whipped cream, And old, yellowed books and soft pillows. --Marina Severinovsky Loveliest of everything I cherish are my photos and loveliest after are my memories, and my collection of books I can't forget my journal which is my life And all my pens and paper --Nicole Obaid NIGHTMARE WISDOM In dreams, one gets insight in life one gets experience encounters and moments which unconsciously direct and influence dreams which controls insight which affects the outcome of the experiences of life in which the cycle will repeat, and repeat until Death. In death, one gets relief... --Joe Todaro Rainbows & Ferrets The truth is that I am the only one. There's only one of me. slick, oily, fur of fuschia, eyes of mandarin crescent moons, tongue of seaweed, stretching to the stars, Ferret's rainbow body, I curl into a perfect circle, and begin to roll through billowing clouds. Eve Rutherford Loveliest of what I leave behind Is the moon, shining innocently above the world, And loveliest after that, the melodic tones of laughter Among friends, But also, thick and chunky gazpacho, rich, sweet Cantaloupe, and tangy, seeded raspberries. -Kate Purcell The truth is I am the softest one. I am the shining spark That flies from the fire But would never burn you I have no edges, I am a cotton moon. I am the kissing water On the back of your neck I fall apart fast like a seeding dandelion But I know how to ride the wind I am the fuzz that lines the nests of birds Hey, I know how to get up high. -Sara Douglas With You Waiting Passion dancing down my lips, softly to your thighs. kisses, one by one like spindles on a victorian railing perfectly spaced, one from another. Dancing down my lips off red lit rooms in songs howled south of your navel one then another, to your perfectly placed private parts. JM 7.19.99 Silver Bay, NY Memory Ghosts Listen a while, the empty field is alive with sound, music, The whispering echoes of those who have passed through, The deafening presence of silence. Listen a while, the empty house is alive with sounds, music, The whispering echoes of those who have passed through, Vivid laughter and transparent images of replayed scenes, The deafening presence of silence. I know the field and house when filled with sounds, music. I hear the whispering echoes of memories, People I knew, Scenes I loved, times I wish to relive in The deafening presence of silence. Hushed Sky I love the skies, the open skies, blue, bright, beautiful. But there are skies, other skies, hushed skies, covered in alto blankets. Skies holding secrets, whispering in winds to the trees. Secrets of cloud tops above. Secrets hushed by branches and distorted in leaves. Children can hear the secrets, angel secrets, but are silenced by their parents command. So the skies stay hushed, angel's secrets kept quiet. Then they, the angels, begin to weep. Anne Hoffer Andres Zambrano I Miss Your Kisses Poor, little Adam! He sees how the clock does not wait for him He remembers his last seven white candles in his birthday party His mother is not with him The square where he sleeps is empty His mother is not there Bad mornings He goes and see his mother sleep She caine back working She really needs to sleep Money is the password He has ten bucks In the night he tries to wait for his mother His eyes are fighting They want to remain open He listen! The door opens He knows his mother is back He runs He shows his mother his ten bucks Can I buy two hours of your time? He asks Andres Zambrano "Neutrality Policy" Hate skulks toward my door It is part of my cruel society I open my old door I see Hitler and FDR fighting Both of them with different ideologies Hate blinds my mom and dad They are two little, tiny, microscopic pieces of this planet They discover hate They love to use it They can't stop fighting Sometimes I think Who is going to be Hitler on this non-stopping fight? Well! I don't really care I will just keep My Neutrality Policy THIS SPACE AVAILABLE Inspiration is a blast of white and yellow water, refreshingly cold and crisp, revitalizing and biting like some wonderful snake. As it slithers back to its secret damp hole in that illusive corner of your head you notice faint wisps of brimstone and exotic spice sliding from under your nose. But you are too drunk on its venom to care when it will be back, if at all. -Ben Norris green grass, trees cool at the edge of my mind on summer nights walking looking to where the haze forms on the horizon and blurs the mountains and runs languid into the crevices of the land land standing still walk so that it moves a walker stands still and the land moves -Mike Powers HOMELESS MAN (after the style of "Night Stuff' by C. Sandburg) Listen a while, the city is a homeless man, a naked man, lost in a world of doors, lost in a world of warm light behind closed doors. Listen a while, the beach at night is a naked man, a homeless man, walking among the gently rolling dunes and soft, wet seaweed, his feet encrusted with shells and dried blood, gently washed away by the tide. I know the city and the beach have imprinted themselves in my soul, my memory, the same as a naked man, a homeless man, in a world of closed doors, in a world of warm light behind closed doors. -Sarah Robinson THE BLUE TRAIL Have you hiked at midnight through terrain, bold as an unshaven face. Do you really need that flashlight? the rocks in front of you are Japanese lanterns, trust them. When did you stop on the blue trail to see the moon hung like a galactic ornament around the mountain's neck. Have you tasted the smoke of pine needles in the fire? When the time comes to go into the night; look at the moon and kiss your mother. -Joe Mulligan DARKNESS Darkness, a creature with wispy fingers, stretching out across night, darkness, licking at light, flickering it out, darkness, no life without light. -Eve Rutherford Br (A point of clarity: "br" is the symbol for atomic element number 36, bromine) Brown and purple sky over cracked dust Broken fences languish in a barbed wire coat Branded thinkers grapple with Death's fallout Bromide, liver-colored, stains their coats and Bratty concern freckles their faces; it